Down on her luck, a single mom gets stranded on a road — and it looks as if her baby might literally spend the night in a manger.

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The engine sputtered and died. Maryanne swallowed back a curse and guided her ancient Honda Civic to the side of the road. She stared at the fuel gauge.

Her last dollars had gone into the gas tank. She turned in the driver's seat to check on Joshua, her 3-month-old son, who was fast asleep. She was going to have to walk to the farm. And if her cousin Jennifer didn't open the door for her, she'd officially be homeless. And spending Christmas in her car.

She had no guarantee Jennifer would even remember her. But desperation had set in when Maryanne's landlady had thrown all her possessions out into the street. She unfolded the Google Maps printout. It looked like she was only a mile short of the turnoff onto Ridge Road. From there it was a mile or so to the Carpenter family farm, where her grandfather had grown peaches.

Maryanne had visited the farm one Christmas when she was 6 years old. She remembered her cousin as a sweet teenager who'd played dolls with her. She was banking her future on that memory. And, what the heck — for someone with nowhere to go, Last Chance, South Carolina, kind of filled the bill.

She looked up at the sky. Rain was coming, maybe snow. She'd never seen any appreciable snow, having grown up in Montgomery, Alabama. But those clouds looked menacing. She bundled Joshua into the carrier she'd found at the Salvation Army, zippered her two-sizes-too-big fleece jacket around both of them, and started walking.

She saw the barn and the white farmhouse just as the rain changed from a drizzle to a downpour. She ran up the drive and onto the porch. It seemed much smaller than the house of her long-ago Christmas memory, but over the years, she had certainly added embellishments. Living in a succession of foster homes, she'd gone so far as to imagine a pretend life for herself, here in Grandpa's farmhouse; she'd even imagined a boy next door named Joe who was her best friend. So she couldn't be sure about anything, except that being here was better than being in a women's shelter in Montgomery.

She knocked on the door and got only an echo. Her toes were starting to go numb and Joshua was beginning to fuss. So she pulled her soggy hood over her head and dashed to the barn. It didn't look like any animals had been there for a long time; it was pristine. She headed up to the loft, and there, nestled in some straw, covered by a musty old horse blanket, she nursed her baby.

Daniel Jessup was pushing the grocery cart up the aisle heading for the frozen-food section at the Last Chance Bi-Lo when the spiral-cut hams caught his eye.

"Can I help you?" the guy behind the counter asked.

Daniel shook his head. "No. I wish those hams weren't so big. It's just me this year."

The guy nodded and gave him a look like Daniel had been living under a rock. In a way, he had. Ever since his wife, Julia, had walked out on him, he'd been living on frozen dinners and takeout.

He headed to aisle five and put a canned ham in his cart. He found a box of instant mashed potatoes, and the bakery still had one apple pie left. A bottle of inexpensive merlot would make the icy night go faster.

He passed through the seasonal aisle on his way to the checkout line. A few toys still hadn't found homes. That was when it all caught up to him. He didn't have anyone to buy a gift for. He picked up a stuffed reindeer. A baby was supposed to pull on the loop attached to it and make it bounce and jingle.

"Daniel Jessup. This is a surprise." Miriam Randall wheeled her shopping cart in his direction. She was wearing 1950s rhinestone trifocals and a sweatshirt with a big Rudolph on the front of it.

"Hey, Miz Miriam. How are you doing?" Daniel said.

"Oh, same old. What brings you home?" Like every churchwoman in Allenberg County, she read him like the paper. He'd often been absent these last months as Daddy's mind had faded. It hurt too much to have his own father look him in the face like he was a stranger.

"I know. I was a bad son," he muttered. "I'm putting the farm up for sale. Christmas seemed like a good time to get the house ready."

Miriam studied him from behind her thick glasses.

"Oh, Daniel, I didn't mean it that way. Ruben didn't know anyone at the end. I'm sure that was hard on you." The old woman pushed her cart up next to his. "Son, there's something I need to remind you of. I'm sure you know the story of the wise men. How they each looked up and saw that star. Now, that star was there for everyone to see. So why didn't everyone go to Bethlehem?"

Daniel had no answer for Miriam, who had a reputation for talking in parables — when she wasn't working hard at matching up all the unsuspecting single people in Last Chance. The old woman nodded as if she understood his confusion. "I'll tell you why: They stayed home in bed to wait for the miracle to find them. I'm a firm believer in folks working for their miracles."

She gestured toward the toy in his hand. "You know, you might think about putting that in the charity box at church. You have a merry Christmas, now, you hear?" she said. She turned and wheeled her cart down the aisle.

Daniel looked down at the toy. Miriam was right. He ought to get on with his life. He'd just heard that Julia and her new husband were expecting a child. The news had eaten into him like acid.

He stared at the little reindeer. And then he put it in his shopping cart.

The rain beat on the tin roof, and from its little ticking sound, she could tell it was turning into ice. Maryanne rigged up a temporary place in the hay for her sleeping son and climbed down from the loft. She cracked the barn door, gazed out at tree branches beginning to sag under the frozen weight, and berated herself for leaving the car. Someone would've been sure to have found her out on Route 78 sooner or later. But then again, a single mother in a car with all her worldly possessions and a baby was the sort of thing that brought out do-gooders.

Just then, a car pulled into the drive, its headlights looking ghostly blue through the sleet. She ducked into the shadows and watched its wheels spin as it struggled up to the house.

A tall man with sandy hair got out. He wore a double-breasted overcoat and looked like he was coming home from his job as a stockbroker. That was when she noticed the Georgia plate on his car. Where the heck was Jennifer? Was this her husband? He unlocked the farmhouse. The lights came on, setting up a longing inside her. She felt she ought to introduce herself, but she had planned on talking to Jennifer, not to some stranger in a cashmere coat. So she stood there weighing her options.

Damn. He'd forgotten to stop by the church to drop off the little reindeer toy. Now it lay in the bottom of the grocery sack, mocking him.

He left it there, out of sight, as he reached for the corkscrew and went searching for a juice glass. Momma and Daddy had never been drinkers, so there wasn't a wineglass to be found in the kitchen.

He was just pouring the wine when he heard a noise from the barn. It sounded….

His ears must be playing tricks, he thought. It was probably the wind, or maybe a cat howling at the rain.

The noise came again. He dug into a drawer for a flashlight, then threw on his overcoat and stepped gingerly over the ice. The door was open, which was odd because he knew he'd closed it before he left the previous weekend. He hit the ladder to the loft at a run. Halfway up, he shined his light into a corner.

Oh, holy God.

The girl flinched at the light, and the baby in her arms howled even harder. "Turn that thing off!" She shaded her eyes, and he aimed his light up toward the rafters. He'd gotten only a fleeting look at the woman, but her glossy brown hair and dark eyes made an impression. The baby was maybe 3 or 4 months old and not happy in the least.

"Who the hell are you?" he shouted. The words came out harsher than he'd intended. It was freezing cold in the barn. No wonder the baby was screaming.

"Are you Jennifer's husband?"

"Jennifer? Who's that?"

"Jennifer Carpenter."

If the situation hadn't been so strange, he might have laughed. "Jenny isn't married. What gave you the idea I was her husband?"

"Uh, well, you're here at her farm."

The light dawned. "This is the Jessup farm. Old man Carpenter's orchard is down Ridge Road another mile. Lady, you've holed up in the wrong barn."

"Oh." It was too dark to see her face. But he heard both apology and embarrassment in her voice.

"I'll be going, then," she said. "Just let me get Joshua in his carrier — "

"You can't go anywhere tonight. They're calling for three inches of ice. Besides, I didn't see a car."

"My car broke down, about a mile short of Ridge Road."

"You walked here? With a baby? In the rain?" He went on alert. This had serious child endangerment written all over it.

"Well, don't get up on your high horse. I wasn't going to stay in the car when I could walk. I've got a good North Face coat. I'll be fine."

"You'll be fine doing what?"

"Just walking down to the right farmhouse."

"The Carpenter farmhouse burned down 10 years ago. The barn is all that's left. Jenny lives in town, though I hear she's planning on turning the Jonquil House into a bed and breakfast."

"Oh." The desperation in that single word hit him in the chest. Maybe she wasn't a goofball of a mother. Maybe she just needed some help.

He softened his voice. "I gather it's been a while since you've seen your cousin. Something tells me she's not expecting you for the holidays."

Objectively, ham and instant potatoes wasn't much of a Christmas Eve dinner, but a nursing mother couldn't survive on granola bars for very long before hunger set in.

Daniel Jessup was a kind person, and by after-dinner coffee, he'd learned that Maryanne's mother had married Ezra and Maggie Carpenter's only son, John. And that she'd met her grandparents only once, 20 years ago. "I may have heard Momma mention your father once or twice," Daniel said. "I might even have heard that Ezra and Maggie had a long-lost grandchild. I reckon that was you."

Maryanne put down her coffee cup. "My father was a drunk. And Mom never let me forget it." She was still angry with herself for falling for Gary, Joshua's father. A carbon copy of her own no-account dad. What a fool she'd been. But he hadn't been the first person to abandon her.

She looked back at Daniel. He didn't have that come-hither look in his eyes that had so attracted her to Gary, but he was handsome. "I'm trying to figure out why you're here alone — without any decorations and with boxes piled everywhere," she said, instantly regretting her words.

Daniel studied the remnants of the pie he'd just consumed. "Daddy died two months ago, and I'm putting the farm on the market. I don't live here anymore. I live in Atlanta."

"Well, that explains the Georgia license plate and the BMW. What are you, a stockbroker?"

He met her gaze and shook his head. "No. I'm a lawyer."

Just like that, her bubble burst. She hated lawyers more than do-gooders. In the next room, Joshua started to fuss. She could escape Daniel's blue-eyed stare for a few minutes, she decided. The baby was on his way to rolling right out of the bureau drawer she'd turned into a makeshift bed. There were times, like right then, that she wondered if allowing Joshua to love her was the right thing. She couldn't give him anything, not even a proper crib. Not even on Christmas.

In foster care, she'd gotten something every Christmas. Of course, it was never something she'd wanted. Only one year did she get the gift of her dreams — that year when her mom left her at Grandpa's farm, a baby doll was under the tree for her. She cherished that doll for about three hours and then her mom and Derek, her mom's boyfriend, came back for her. They dragged Maryanne out of the house before she could get the doll and take it with her. Maryanne howled, and at the first gas station, Derek spanked her for it. After they reached Montgomery, Derek wanted to go out partying, so they dropped off Maryanne with a friend of Derek's, a scary lady who smoked a lot of cigarettes. That night, her mom and Derek got into a fatal car wreck. Derek's friend took Maryanne straight to social services, and she entered foster care.

For years, Maryanne had assumed her grandparents didn't want her. But two years ago, she'd finally screwed up the courage to look up her files — only to discover that no one in Montgomery had ever tried to contact her relatives. So maybe Grandma and Grandpa would have given her a home, and if they had, she would have grown up next door to Daniel Jessup.

That thought set her heart to racing, just as Daniel walked into the room. He had a look on his face like he understood where she was coming from. But the connection she felt wasn't real, she thought. It was just her desperation and loneliness.

Daniel stood watching Maryanne as she gazed down at the baby. Her arrival tonight, when he was prepared to drink himself into a stupor, had thawed something inside of him. Listening to her talk about that one Christmas she'd spent with her grandparents made him realize how blessed he was. He'd had his parents for a long while. He'd grown up here, safe and sound and loved. Maryanne didn't have any of those things.

He headed back into the dining room, where he'd stacked boxes designated for the Salvation Army. He felt a fool to have even thought about giving Momma's Christmas stuff away. He carried the box with the tree into the living room.

"What's that?" Maryanne asked as he set the box down and started pulling out green branches.

"It's a Christmas tree. Wanna help me decorate?"

She cocked her head. "It's a little late for that, isn't it?"

"It's not Christmas yet. And it's never too late for a little holiday spirit." This won him a big smile.

"Yeah, I guess."

She put the sleeping baby in his makeshift bed, and the two of them set up the tree in the front window. Mice had gotten to some of the branches. But when the lights were on and the old ornaments came out of the box, it didn't look half bad.

Maryanne headed to the porch. "I want to see what it looks like from the outside." He wanted to shout to her to be careful, but found himself following her to stand in the freezing rain looking at the lights.

"Gosh, it's the way I remember it," she said.

"Huh?"

"Oh — I mean, it looks like something in a greeting card."

He chuckled. "You should've seen it when Momma was alive. She had pine roping draped on everything."

Oh boy, thought Maryanne, she needed to get a grip. It would be so easy to let herself believe she'd found what she had been wishing for.

She made her way over the ice back into the farmhouse to find Joshua awake and cooing, working hard to get himself unwrapped.

She felt the reality of her situation settle back on her shoulders. All very well to pretend she lived in a pretty little farmhouse with Daniel when in reality she was homeless. Taking care of Joshua while trying to find a decent job was going to be impossible. Her life was impossible.

"Can I play with him?" Daniel asked. He'd snuck up behind her, his body warm against the chill from outside. Of all the things Daniel could have said to her in that moment, this one surprised her. She turned to look at him and came right up against his aw-shucks, open-faced look.

"We have a tree, and I even have a present to put under it for him. But could I give it to him early?"

"You have a Christmas gift for him? How could that be?"

He shrugged. "It's a miracle." A moment later he came back from the kitchen with a stuffed reindeer. "It's not much. Just a little jingle toy." He shook it. The sound of bells filled the room. Joshua started looking around.

She knew better than to ask why he had a toy that looked brand-new. She didn't believe it was a miracle.

Daniel held the toy within reaching distance. The baby caught the reindeer and let it go again. There was no mistaking the sound that escaped from his little body. It was the most infectious belly laugh Maryanne had ever heard.

He played with Joshua until he got a little fussy. When he settled into sleep, Daniel didn't have the heart to put him back in his bed. Instead, he sat beside Maryanne on the couch.

"My ex and I had a child." His voice was surprisingly firm.

"Had?" she said.

He drew in a deep breath. "He was born with a heart defect. He never came home from the hospital. My wife couldn't deal with it. So she left." He braced himself for Maryanne's pity. But it didn't come.

"What was his name?" she asked. No one ever asked that. They always wanted the details of the disease.

"Christopher," Daniel said. It had been a long time since he'd spoken the name aloud. "He died on Christmas Eve, five years ago. That's why I was planning on drinking alone. So I'm glad I found you in the barn."

Just sharing a meal and putting up a tree had brought him back into the land of the living.

Daniel's story broke Maryanne's heart and made her realize that there were worse things than being homeless on Christmas Eve.

They put Joshua down, sat in front of the fire, and talked for hours. He told her boyhood stories about living on a farm, and it was almost as if she already knew them.

So in that instant, hours later, when he leaned in and kissed her, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. For just one moment, a whole range of new possibilities opened before her. And then reality clicked in her head.

Maryanne gently disengaged. And he let her go, as if he, too, had remembered that this was impossible. "That's not going to happen again, OK?" she said. "You're a rich lawyer dude and I'm a welfare mother. I should just go back to the barn and get some sleep."

"Don't be ridiculous." He checked his watch. "You know, it's only one-thirty. Jenny is probably just getting back from midnight services." He dug into his jeans and came out with a flashy smartphone. "I'm sure Jenny's number is listed. Why don't you give her a call?" He ran his long fingers over the device in a dance that was both mysterious and sexy. He handed it to her. "All you have to do is press the little green button and the phone will make the call for you."

She stared down at Jennifer's name and number. "I can't call her at one-thirty at night."

"Trust me. Almost everyone in Last Chance goes to church at midnight on Christmas."

She stared at the number, disturbed by her own reluctance. "She'll think I'm desperate or something."

"Aren't you?" His voice was as soft as it had been all night, but somehow having him point out the truth hurt.

"You're right. I am desperate. But I'm not the only coward in this room." She wanted to take the words back the moment she said them.

"Coward? How do you figure?"

"You have to be brave to go on with your life when people abandon you. You have to suck it up and go on."

He pressed his lips together. "Yeah. All right, we'll call Jenny in the morning, and I'll take you and the baby into town." He cocked his head. "Listen, it stopped sleeting. The ice will be gone by mid-morning."

"Thank you." She handed the phone back. The time for saying the right things had come and gone. The moment had passed both of them by.

He nodded, then glanced at the baby. "You're welcome to the couch. Merry Christmas."

Maryanne didn't go to sleep. Her heart was full of so many conflicting emotions at that moment. Daniel had called her bluff, hadn't he?

He'd handed her that fancy phone and made her look right into herself and realize how stupid traveling without a plan had been. Why on earth would her cousin want anything to do with her? They were kin, but that didn't mean anything.

And she wasn't going to mistake a kiss for something permanent or even real. He might have grown up on a farm and had a wonderful childhood, but he was still from an entirely different world. An unknown.

Maryanne thought about his big silver car and his tasseled loafers. He had a home. He had a big heart. He'd made Joshua laugh.

He'd also made her see the truth. She would never escape the sad facts of her life. She knew what people said about single mothers like her. She hadn't even gotten approval for deciding to have Joshua. Instead, the do-gooders had harangued her about how she would never give Joshua what he needed. And she'd stubbornly insisted that she could give him love the way no one else on earth could.

Yet tonight, she'd learned otherwise. Daniel Jessup had looked down at her child with such a tender expression on his face. He could give Joshua a childhood that Maryanne had wanted so badly that she'd made it up in her fantasies. So maybe the do-gooders were right. She wasn't ready to be anyone's mother, but she could play Santa tonight. She could give a truly amazing gift. And maybe by letting go, she'd get her life back in the right place.

Daniel startled awake. Something wasn't right. Then he realized Joshua was crying, hard. He stepped into his jeans and hurried downstairs.

He turned on the lamp by the couch and discovered Joshua howling in his drawer. His little face was red with fury, his hands balled up.

"Maryanne?" Daniel called. He got no answer. He picked up the baby, who continued to cry as Daniel walked into the kitchen and switched on the light.

Then he saw the note on the table. His chest constricted, and his heart started racing. He'd driven her away just like he'd driven away Julia.

He rocked Joshua back and forth and then looked that little face right in the eye. "OK, kid. You and I are going to go look for her." He laid Joshua down on his blanket for a moment and stepped onto the porch. He saw tracks in the ice along the side of the driveway. It would be madness to drive with an unsecured baby in the front seat. He was going to have to follow her on foot.

He turned back toward the house. The eastern sky was changing from black to midnight blue, and there, hanging on the horizon, was the morning star. He'd never stopped to think about how beautiful Venus looked on clear, crisp winter mornings like this. And just like that, he knew where he'd find Maryanne.

When he got to the Carpenters' place, it almost seemed that the star was right above the barn. And the door was open. A black cat wandered out into the yard. And even though she only said "meow," it was almost as if he heard the words What took you so long? inside his head.

The cat had abandoned her. For a while, it had curled up beside Maryanne where she'd collapsed after sobbing her heart out. Its defection was like a punctuation mark on the state of her life.

She'd never get over giving up Joshua. She wasn't entirely sure she was going to get over leaving Daniel.

He was the boy she'd invented. Her heart insisted this was true, even though her mind knew it couldn't be possible.

"I'm sorry," a voice said.

She pushed up from the hay.

Daniel was standing right there, wearing his cashmere coat and holding a baby carrier. He'd lost his loafers, though, and was wearing boots that looked like authentic farm-boy attire. The baby carrier didn't look out of place, either.

"Sorry for what?" she said, brushing away tears.

"For making you feel bad last night. I only did it because I'm so tired of being pushed away. I don't exactly understand why, but I want you in my life, Maryanne."

"But I'm a screwup," she said. "And if you think I'm just going to take charity from some guy, you're crazy. My mother did that all the time, and it never made her happy. I want to make it on my own."

"I'm happy to wait. But I'm not letting you give Joshua away. And I'm not letting you run away from me, either."

She stood up. "You don't want Joshua?"

He blew out a breath. "I know we just met, but certainly you've figured out that I want a family. But I'm not about to take your baby. I want so much more than a baby. It's a package deal, Maryanne. I want to get to know you. I want to help you. And not just because it's what I do."

"What you do?"

"I told you I'm an attorney. After my son died, I just decided I needed to do something more important. Julia didn't understand. She used to call me a do-gooder."

Maryanne's stomach double-clutched. "So…you just go around doing good deeds?"

"Not exactly. I'm a children's advocate. I work hard to keep families together. All you need is some day care and a job to get back on your feet. There are loads of people in Last Chance who can help with that. Jenny is one of them. I'll bet she'll need help at the new B and B. But the thing is, I don't want to be your advocate. I want to be your friend."

"Friend?" Maryanne whispered.

Daniel took several steps toward her. Dawn was breaking, and his blue eyes looked so bright and earnest.

"I didn't tell you this before," she whispered, allowing herself to give voice to the notion that they were connected by something, maybe fate. "When Momma died, I told the authorities I had family in South Carolina, but I just got handed over to foster care. I used to think about what it would be like living here. I imagined being friends with the boy next door. And if I'd come here…"

"I really would have been the boy next door." They stared at each other for the longest moment. "Come on. Let's get the car seat out of your car and go find Jenny," he said.

A frisson of panic coursed through Maryanne. "But — "

He put his finger across her lips. "Hush, now. Jenny is a kindhearted woman who knows how to bake a mean apple pie. Y'all are her family — the only family she's got left. You and Joshua are going to be the best Christmas present she's ever gotten. Trust me on this."

"I'm not good at trusting."

"I know. We'll work on that."

He leaned down and gave her a soft, gentle, and surprisingly passionate kiss. The black cat wrapped herself around the legs of both of them as Maryanne threw her arms around Daniel's neck and hung on. "Merry Christmas," he whispered against her lips. "For all of us."